Other Arms
by Harmne
Summary: Response to a Dare on a Yahoo group. Not my usual sort of thing...
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: Characters are property of JE and used without permission. Usually I don't torture them, though. This one was all Katbaby's fault!**_

_A/N: This was written in Feb 2009 for a Dare on the Rangeman Yahoo group. I found it on my hard drive, did a little tweaking on it and decided to post it here... Not my usual fare - hope you enjoy it, anyway! Happy New Year!_

_**Katbaby's Dare... **_

_Stephanie sees Ranger without a shirt on._

_On his back are nail marks. From a woman..._

**-oOo-**

The skip was trying to get his hand down my halter top as I coaxed him out of the back door of the club. As a result, when Cal and Lester grabbed him he took my glittery party top with him and snapped my bra strap. I did a quick turn and faced the club's brick wall, keeping my back to the guys. Without the strap to hold it up, there wasn't a whole lot to the lace push-up plunge bra I had on, you know?

Ranger's hand came into my peripheral vision with a handful black knit. A t-shirt - his, by the scent. I pulled it on quickly, careful not to flash anyone. I pulled the tiny wireless mic out from between my breasts at the same time.

Ranger was still standing behind me when I turned around.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I guess he had a hold of my shirt – it kind of took me by surprise," I said, handing him the wire. I was trying not to stare at his chest. Kind of hard when it was right there in front of me in all its chiseled masculine perfection. Ranger didn't seem to notice. He turned, his hand automatically finding it's place on the small of my back, and led me over to the Cayenne. He opened the door and reached under the seat to pull out a windbreaker – and that's when I saw them.

Half-moons. Nail marks. Scratches -- all up and down his back.

I felt like I'd been sucker punched. I couldn't breathe.

Those had been made by a woman's hand.

Some _**other**_ woman had had her arms around Ranger.

Ranger's attention was on the Bronco where Lester was finishing securing the skip. My shocked state went un-noticed as he pulled the windbreaker on and handed me into the passenger seat. He didn't seem to realize he'd shown me his back.

Or he didn't care.

My eyes burned as they followed his progress around the front of the vehicle, pausing to say a few words to his men. I swallowed hard, feeling like a rock was stuck in my throat. It was probably my heart.

The drive to my apartment was torture but I managed to refuse his offer to walk me up. I needed to be alone tonight.

As soon as the door closed behind me I stripped off Ranger's t-shirt and dropped it on the floor. Then I locked every lock on my door and shoved the floor bolt into place.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I lost the contents of my stomach. Fuck. Was this why he'd been late for the distraction, having Cal pick me up? What if it was Jeanne Ellen? My stomach heaved again. I couldn't stand it if was Jeanne Ellen. It would kill me to see them together.

Shivering, I finished undressing, tossing the ruined bra and snagged stockings into the trash before climbing into a hot shower to scrub off the smell of the bar. I wished I could scrub the sight of Ranger's marked back out of my eyes.

Several minutes later I stopped my frantic scrubbing and leaned against the tile feeling drained. I couldn't decide if I felt more hurt or angry. Or why I should feel either one. Ranger wasn't mine. In the two years since my night with Ranger I'd slept with Joe countless times. Did I really think Ranger had been celibate all those months?

I didn't want to think about it. My stomach was churning again. Fair or not, rational or not, I considered Ranger mine. And I didn't want to share.

I was an idiot.

I rinsed my mouth in the shower and got out, toweling my hair and wrapping myself in my threadbare old robe before heading for the dark kitchen and the vodka in the freezer. I stood there in the shadows and drank straight from the bottle until I felt heat spreading outward from my stomach and my head began to feel fuzzy.

I heard the doorknob turn and looked over in time to see a sliver of light appear as the door was pushed open, but the door hit the floor bolt and held. I was frozen to the floor. I knew who it was and I didn't want to face him. I felt something on my face and realized my cheeks were wet with tears. I was crying.

He knocked. I held my breath. Maybe he'd go away.

"Steph?" he called. "Let me in. I need to talk to you." His voice sounded hard.

I started seeing spots and had to breathe but managed not to make a sound.

Ranger knocked again, then I heard him swear and the door snapped shut. I waited for what seemed like an eternity but didn't hear anything else, so I put the bottle on the counter and crept to the door. The hallway through the peephole was empty. I re-locked the locks and headed for the bed, double-checking that the window was locked tight, too. Then I buried myself in the bed and cried myself to sleep.

**-oOo-**

The dip of the mattress startled me awake and I bolted straight up, scrambling backwards. "Stay away from me!"

"Babe, it's only me!" He sounded tired and exasperated. "I just came to make sure you were okay."

I used the adrenaline to push the hurt down but I kept the simmering anger. "I'm fine, so you can just go home."

"What's wrong with you?" Now he sounded kind of pissed.

Too bad.

"Who was it?"

"What?"

"Who did you _fuck_ that clawed up your back?"

For a heartbeat he went still, then he leaned closer and I felt the change in the air as his exasperation evaporated into sudden icy-hot anger. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Then why the hell are you here? Go home, go back to her bed." I shouted and tried to roll off the other side of the bed. Strong hands caught me and hauled me back nearly into his lap.

"What do you care? You've been in the cop's bed. You've let me kiss you, let me get close, but then you leave me twisting in the wind and go fuck Morelli…."

"Stop it!"

He ignored me and continued. "I have needs, too, Stephanie, the same as Joe or any other man. But if you really want to know who I fucked, I'll tell you."

"No!" I nearly screamed it, trying to put my hands over my ears. I didn't want to hear, didn't want to know… "Shut up! Shut up, _shut up_, don't say it!"

He caught one wrist and pulled it away from my ear, his other arm dragging me closer to his body. "Are you sure? Don't you want to know…?" he taunted.

The pain I'd pushed down erupted back up and I began to sob, my free hand trying desperately to cover his mouth. "No, please," I begged, "I don't want to know."

Time froze for a moment, the tension between us so strong it blotted everything else out, then Ranger swore and scooped me into his lap.

"I'm sorry, Babe," he said in a raw voice, his arms cradling me close. "I'm sorry."

I couldn't speak; I was drowning in my tears. And what could I say, anyway?

**-oOo-**

_~End~_

_(No throwing things at me, either!)_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer...you know the drill.**_

_A/N: Okay, you twisted my arm...or is it my muse that's twisted?_

**-oOo-**

**Chapter 2**

I thought I had no tears left, but I was wrong. As the storm of weeping passed I became aware of a few things, first and foremost that I really needed some tissues.

My warm nest moved as Ranger reached for the box on the nightstand. I heard the rustle of nylon against his skin and remembered that he was shirtless beneath the windbreaker - and I was cradled in his lap with only my robe on. Somehow I knew this was not a good place for me to be right now.

Mustering what little grace or coordination I could manage, I slid out of his embrace and off the bed, grabbing the tissue box on the way, and headed for the bathroom to clean myself up. It took half a dozen tissues to mop up the worst of it and my sinuses were still clogged. I rinsed my face and brushed my teeth, then I tightened the belt of my robe and stepped back out.

Ranger was leaning in the opening of the bedroom doorway, half in and half out. His windbreaker was zipped all the way up to his throat.

"I apologize," I said quickly, before he had a chance to say anything. My voice sounded hollow with my sinuses stopped up and my throat raw from tears. "It's none of my business and I-- Well, I'm sorry."

He straightened but didn't move toward me or reach out, and my heart ached.

"Stephanie, I think we need to talk. Not here, and not tonight, but we need to talk."

His voice was flat and even with no trace of warmth and my eyes welled with tears again. I blinked them back and stared hard at the floor between us. He seemed to be waiting for something, so I nodded. I understood.

He hesitated, as if he expected me to look up. I couldn't. I kept my gaze firmly on the floor, my arms wrapped around my middle as if that would keep my heart from hurting. It didn't help. But after another few endless minutes I finally saw him move and a moment later I heard the soft snick of the apartment door closing.

It took a long time for me to get my feet to move, and I went to check the door. He'd locked the locks, but I attached the chain and latched the floor bolt again. I headed back to bed on autopilot. It only registered that I was shivering when I reached to pull back my comforter and I saw my hand shake. Then I realized I was cold in spite of the warm night, and that my hair was still wet.

I put socks on my cold feet first, then pulled on pajama pants and an old sweatshirt. Fishing the damp towel I'd had my hair wrapped in out of the sheets, I sat on the edge of the bed and blow-dried my hair and then aimed the warm air at the damp spots on the sheets. Probably I ought to change them but I was just too drained.

Turning the dryer off, I crawled between the warmed sheets and willed myself back to sleep. Surely things would look better tomorrow, right?

**-oOo-**

At five thirty-three I gave up on sleep and crawled out of bed to make coffee. Ranger was right. We needed to talk.

I felt oddly detached as I went through the familiar motions of setting up the coffee pot. I leaned on the counter and watched as it began to dribble out brown liquid into the waiting carafe, trying to concentrate. I didn't think Ranger was going to let me put off our talk and I needed to get my thoughts in order and decide how to explain last night. If I could.

An hour, two cups of coffee, and a bathroom break later I realized I couldn't really explain myself to Ranger unless I came clean and admitted how I felt about him - and I wasn't sure I could do that. Not now.

Soft tapping on my door had me jerking in my chair, sloshing coffee out of my cup, over my hand, and onto the dinette table. I rubbed my trembling fingers dry on my pajama pants as I tiptoed to the door. Surely Ranger wouldn't be here this early...

The peephole showed me Lester. Why would he be...? I bit my lip and took a shady breath, and unlocked the door.

Lester stood in the hall with his head cocked slightly, taking in my definitely-not-ready-for-morning look with understanding in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" My voice came out nearly a croak and made me cough.

Lester backed me inside, closed the door, and led me back to my chair at the table. As soon as I sat down he whisked away my cold coffee, wiped up my spill, sat a fresh cup in front of me and sat down with his own. Then he dropped a box of donuts on the table between us.

"I'm here because of what happened last night," he said calmly.

I assumed he meant the skip, and immediately opened my mouth. "I'm fine, Lester - the skip only got my shirt, not any part of me--"

"I meant with Ranger."

Stricken, I looked up and found his eyes full of sympathy. Mine immediately filled with tears yet again. Cursing under my breath I lurched from the table to grab a paper towel before dropping back into the chair. "How much do you know?" I asked between sniffs.

"I know when we got back to the control room last night and Ranger took off his windbreaker, we all got a good look at his back. Tank and I both realized you must have seen it. Tank took him aside and started to jump his shit, and Ranger grabbed the windbreaker and took off. We were pretty sure he came here."

"Yeah," I admitted just above a whisper.

"He was gone for a while." He paused, but when I didn't say anything he continued. "Did you two talk, work things out?"

I made a sound that was half snort and half sob. "Not really."

"What happened?"

Lester was being so earnest, keeping his voice soft and even, that I felt compelled to answer. "We kind of had a fight." A tear escaped and I brushed it away before it could fall.

"I was afraid of that," Lester sighed, sitting back a little.

My stomach was jumping around with nausea again, but my idiotic mouth opened anyway. "Do you know...who...?"

He shook his head without hesitation. "No idea."

I sniffed. "Ranger said we need to talk," I finally admitted in a small voice.

"Ain't that the truth," Lester muttered, looking over my head at the wall.

Denial wasn't going to get me through this mess. I wasn't sure what would. I could use some help. "I don't know what to say to him," I whispered. "I don't know what he wants from me."

"Do you want some advice?" Lester asked. At my nod he leaned forward, propping his arms against the edge of the table. "Be honest. With Ranger and with yourself. He doesn't know what you want from him, either. You need to decide, Steph. What do you want from him, and what are you willing to give? If you want this mess resolved you're going to have to talk. Both of you are."

Then Lester got up, pressed a kiss in the general vicinity of my forehead, and let himself back out. I sat motionless.

He was right. Lester was right, I knew he was, but the idea of laying my hopes and feelings bare to Ranger scared the crap out of me.

What _**exactly**_ did I want, anyhow?

**-oOo-**

_**TBC...**_


End file.
